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She also liked the way Monty acted among his friends. He seemed more at ease here than he acted in town. Not so guarded, and he teased the female cats from the old Miami pride, treating them like bothersome sisters. Family, not potential sexual partners. Good. His attitude soothed her wolf, and she found herself easing into the pride’s rhythm. The teasing and laughter made her feel like part of something bigger, and without thinking about it, she took Monty’s hand in hers and smiled, feeling so much love for her mate she could taste it.

He clutched her hand tightly in his and leaned in for a kiss. The soft, possessive gesture made her sigh, because her wolf rolled over and howled with delight. He’d acknowledged her openly in front of the pack with that simple peck. His wolf. Her wolf. Together.

Not pack, pride, she corrected her animal spirit, then froze when she realized the room had gone quiet.

Monty kept her hand in his and kissed her again. He winked at her and turned to the gathering. “I have an announcement to make.”

“About frickin’ time,” Grady muttered.

Gabby elbowed him and huffed.

“No shit.” Dean received a slap upside the head from Joel. “Ow. Why is everyone always hitting me?”

“Maybe because you’re an idiot?” Grady offered.

Gabby groaned. “Would you two shut up? I’m sorry for them. Sincerely. Go ahead, Monty.”

“You two cats are a major pain in my ass,” he snapped, then turned to Sophie with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, honey.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I have something to say.”

“So talk already. Christ,” Dean grumbled and dodged another slap aimed for his head.

Monty continued. “As you know, I’ve been waiting for the right time to approach Sophie, so I could do what I’ve been dying to since I first saw her. Sophie and I have mated.”

Not that she didn’t already know that, but from what she’d been told, claiming a mate in front of witnesses was as good as throwing on rings and saying “I do.”

The others cheered and congratulated them. And somehow dinner turned into a party full of booze, dancing and laughter.

Sophie had a terrific time swinging around in the arms of her wolf. Monty had sidestepped a bunch of questions about their future and where they might live, saying only that he and Sophie were still discussing things, which of course they hadn’t yet.

But even that didn’t faze her. She had the mate of her dreams, Ac-taw who knew her, liked her and accepted her. The future she’d always wanted seemed right here, right now. Hers to keep. Yet that niggling worry remained. What would they think if they knew the real her? Worse, what would Monty think? She didn’t like the vague anxiety that wouldn’t go away, so she decided to ignore it. She’d hold on to tonight, and as she swung in Monty’s arms, she made a memory. His face, that smile, those eyes—she’d cherish him forever. She only prayed she could keep the man himself, and not a lot of bittersweet memories to keep her warm at night.

Monty thought the night had gone off without a hitch…if it weren’t for the shadows he could see in his mate’s eyes. He had a feeling he’d pushed too hard too soon, but fuck it all, he needed his pack—pride—to know his mate. His wolf wanted validation, acknowledgement and a nod from his alpha.

Burke had taken him aside earlier and congratulated him wholeheartedly. “You lucked out, you mangy mutt. I don’t know what she sees in you, but don’t fuck it up.”

“Thanks, Burke,” he’d drawled back. “That’s really uplifting.”

Burke had laughed, swung Sophie around for a dance, and then handed her winded and wild-eyed back to Monty.

But now, as he and Sophie stood in front of his cabin, nerves struck again. What if she felt pressure and not the vast love he felt? What if she didn’t actually want all this cloying belonging, used to being alone for so long? Hell, he’d gone through the same emotions upon returning to town. A lone wolf thrust back into Ac-taw society. The order had been a nightmare and Burke his saving grace. But he knew Burke. The cat gave him whatever space he needed to roam. What did Sophie need?

He pulled her with him inside his place, glad he’d had the foresight to ask Rachel to help him straighten up. Rather, he’d asked Rachel to have cleaning people out to his place. They’d done a bang-up job. The bad food smell and dirty clothes all over the floor had vanished. The small two-bedroom cabin smelled fresh, like lemons. The rustic furniture gleamed with polish, and his crap had been neatly organized into stacks of stuff—books and women magazines he’d purchased to understand Sophie, a few spare parts for his truck, some sporting equipment and ammo.

Sophie took it all in as he tried to find the right words to say what was on his mind. Finally, unable to think of a good way to say it, he simply asked, “Is this a mistake?”

She turned around, wide eyes on him. “What?”

“Us. Do you think we’re a mistake? I can smell your worry. What the hell’s wrong? It was too much, right? Too many people.” He wanted to hear a yes, so he’d know he wasn’t the problem.

She remained quiet long enough to worry him.

“Sophie?” Should he tell her how he felt about her? Would she believe him now, or would she think he said the L word to convince her to stay with him? Shit. He hated not knowing how to deal with her this way. He could handle sex and the happy crap, but Monty normally dealt with conflict by killing it or beating it up.

“It’s not you, Monty. Or your friends. They’re great.” She took a deep breath, and to his horror, he heard it hitch. “It’s all so terrific. I’m just afraid it will go away.”

She looked up at him and her eyes glinted like diamonds. The sheen of tears literally hurt him smack dab in the heart.

“Aw, baby. Don’t cry. Please.” He took her in his arms and hugged her, rocking her against him. “If you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it. Is this about me pushing you to shift so we can run together?” It still bothered him he hadn’t seen Sophie’s wolf. The woman had a problem with her animal spirit made flesh, but she was working on it. Or so Gabby had told him the other day when he’d asked her. Sophie, stubborn as a mule, didn’t like talking about her problems. And since he was the same way, he figured he had little room to judge. When the woman felt ready to run with him, she would. Or so he hoped.

“You can’t fix the past, Monty. I wish you could.”

He felt himself tense. “My past or yours?”

“Either. Both. Does it matter? We never talk about it, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just afraid…”

“I don’t know what happened to you. And until you’re ready to tell me, if you ever are, I don’t care. I want you for you, baby. What happened made you who you are. It’s a part of you, and it doesn’t matter to me. You matter, Sophie Tanner.” He swallowed hard and reached for his back pocket. He withdrew a small box—it had cost him two months’ pay and a lot of ribbing from annoying cats. But when he’d seen the stone downtown, he’d known it would look right around her neck. A diamond pendant she could slip on and off when not in wolf form. “I want to marry you.” Shit. He was supposed to ask.

He wanted to go to one knee, but she had a death grip on his arms, so he cleared his throat and pulled back enough to open the box and put it under her nose. “If you’ll have me, I’d be honored if you’d wear this.” Close enough to asking, he figured.

She blinked at the necklace, then at him. “You want me to marry you?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he whispered back, on edge. His wolf paced, not liking this reversal in the way things should be. He’d mated the female already. What the hell did he need a wedding and human ceremony for?